


Conclave

by havocthecat



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havocthecat/pseuds/havocthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team is supposed to split up for six months, and Sophie has always loved Italy. So does Maggie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conclave

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/havocs_cry/43894.html) on LJ.

Maggie had been inside the Sistine Chapel a dozen times, most often for the sake of business. Tonight, though, she was here for her herself. Laying on her back on the church pew was grossly improper, but it was also the best way to get a complete view of the ceiling. It wasn't as if she were the only one who'd ever done that.

"Truly lovely, don't you think?" asked a woman. The voice was familiar, but the accent had softened from the sharp Italian that Maggie was familiar with, into the rounded vowels and faint slur of the U.K.

"Portia?" asked Maggie, sitting up. The woman who had helped sell Ian Blackpoole the Second David was here? Given Portia's position as curator of the Vatican museums, she supposed it wasn't that surprising at all, though she'd thought Portia was on a long-term tour of the United States.

"I'm afraid I haven't the faintest idea who you're talking about," said the woman. She held her hand out. "Sophie Devereaux. I used to work with IYS. I believe I've seen you around the holidays? Client parties and the like."

Maggie shook it. Now that she had a clearer look at her, she supposed there was a similarity between Sophie and Portia, but they couldn't possibly be the same woman. Portia's skin had a much more olive cast to it, and her entire bearing was different from Sophie's posture.

"Maggie Collins," said Maggie. She shrugged, smiled with as much good humor as she could muster, and decided to get it out of the way early on in the acquaintance. "Formerly Maggie Ford."

"Surely not Nathan Ford's ex-wife?" asked Sophie, her eyes wide with surprise. "I'd heard he'd gotten a divorce. You didn't keep the last name?"

"Not a chance," said Maggie. She ignored Sophie's curious look. The story of her break-up was nothing she was interested in sharing.

"How very fascinating," said Sophie. It was more of a purr than anything.

"I never thought I'd see anyone from IYS in here," commented Maggie. She turned to take in the nave and the altar, where there had to be valuable relics cemented in. "Not without a major news story. Or a major theft that didn't make the news."

"You'd be surprised how often I make it to Italy for no particular reason at all," said Sophie. She sat on the pew, and Maggie, wondering what she was thinking, sat next to Sophie, close enough so that they could lean against each other. "It's a lovely country."

Maggie glanced over, wondering if the double meaning she heard in Sophie's voice was intended. "Not much surprises me these days," drawled Maggie. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised to find out you have an Italian twin that's been in bed with my ex-husband."

"Oh, darling, him?" Sophie waved one hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm afraid that he and I wouldn't suit at all, and if I had a twin, I can guarantee she'd find him entirely too irritating for words."

"Even if she were Italian?" asked Maggie, with a small grin. She couldn't believe she was flirting with this woman.

"Especially if she were Italian," said Sophie. Her eyes sparkled and she leaned in toward Maggie, as if she were confiding a secret. "But I think if I were to have an Italian twin, she'd probably rather drag you into bed with her, not Nate."

Maggie flushed a deep shade of pink and reached up to brush her hair out of her face. It was an obvious delaying tactic. She hadn't expected to hear that. "So, ah," she started, fumbling for something to say. "What brings you to Rome?"

"A little bit of business," said Sophie, patting her purse. The edge of a folder was visible when Maggie glanced over. "Nothing too terribly complicated. I heard from some of my contacts that there was someone else who worked with IYS in Rome, and I just had to come and check you out."

"You pulled yourself away from business just to see little ol' me?" asked Maggie. She grinned at Sophie, who fluttered her eyelashes.

"Darling, I couldn't keep myself away," murmured Sophie. Her hand clasped Maggie's in an iron grip, and her smile was brilliant in the chapel. "Come and visit me in my hotel, and I'll show you exactly what I mean."

"This isn't the sort of thing I normally do," said Maggie. A slow heat spread through her, though there was nervousness underneath it. "Make assignations with strange women, especially not in a church."

"This is the time I'd normally start telling you about the Sistine Chapel and its history," said Sophie. She leaned back in the pew and smiled up at the ceiling. "Not everyone knows how to properly appreciate Michelangelo."

"You can skip the art history lecture and tell me where you're staying. Maggie grinned. This was much better than her overseas trips in the past.

The Westin Excelsior," said Sophie. She slipped a key into Maggie's hand. The edge of the plastic card was sharp on her palm. "Room twenty thirty-seven. Do tell me you'll come and see me. There's an excellently stocked wet bar, and I'm afraid that I haven't yet used up my expense account yet."

"If Nate finds out, he's going to be furious," said Maggie. She wrapped her hand around the key. He might find out. She doesn't care. She's survived Nate's anger plenty of times, and thrown more than a bit his way. Besides, one of the benefits of being divorced is that her ex-husband has no say in who she sleeps with.

"Then Nate can kick himself for letting you out of his sight," said Sophie. Her lips grazed Maggie's cheek and her hand brushed along Maggie's arm. Then she was gone, and Maggie was left with just the faint hint of Sophie's perfume.

Maggie stared down at the card in her hand. "What just happened?"

Was it a mortal sin or a venial one to let your ex-husband's ex-coworker arrange an assignation with you while in the middle of a church?

\--end--


End file.
